


green tea solves everything

by flowersinxeirhair



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Cosette is lovely, F/F, Fluff, is that a tag can i tag that, period
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-01
Updated: 2016-04-01
Packaged: 2018-05-29 22:18:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6396091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flowersinxeirhair/pseuds/flowersinxeirhair
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>marius said you were sick?????? oh no queen r u ok???</i>
  <br/>
  <i>wait oh my god no he said “lady problems”</i>
  <br/>
  <i>which is hilarious</i>
  <br/>
  <i>but also problematic af</i>
  <br/>
  <i>anyway do u need anything lovely????</i>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>bc the world needs more fluffy lesbians taking care of each other</p>
            </blockquote>





	green tea solves everything

**Author's Note:**

> i like women who love women 
> 
> APRIL FUCKIN FOO LS i lOVE them here u go dickheads

The beginning of a period was the worst. It was the shitty, thick, viscous impossible-to-get-out-of-pubes, chunks-of-dead-uterus kind of kill-me moment in Eponine’s life that made her curl up on the bathroom tiles and forget time worked.

And cramps. Oh God, cramps.

Her sister always told her it was because she had big tits, and it was a blessing in disguise. Bullshit, she thought, as she vomited into the toilet bowl, retching again the god-awful smell of the thing. Maybe she should clean her apartment for once. Which, ha.

She noted dully that her phone was buzzing, but her lower back felt like Satan was digging his fingernails just- right in there. Wasn’t that fun. Thanks, Lucifer. 

Eponine rested her cheek against the cold tile. Which was nice in theory, but the angle made her neck ache and her shoulder blades tense awkwardly. She groaned to herself, and rolled onto her front in the hopes it would ease the lower back pains, but just ended up smushing her boobs against the bathmat uncomfortably and leaning her forehead and nose against the abrasive blue material.

With all the enthusiasm of a slowly dying koala, she swiped up her phone and dragged her sorry ass to the couch. It took almost fifteen minutes to find a position that didn’t make her feel gross and bloody or painfully crampy or dangerously close to falling off the couch, or any number of life threatening situations. Then, at last, she dug out her phone.

There were five texts from Cosette.

 

_marius said you were sick?????? oh no queen r u ok???_

_wait oh my god no he said “lady problems”_

_which is hilarious_

_but also problematic af_

_anyway do u need anything lovely????_

 

Eponine smiled half-consciously and turned on Hell’s Kitchen.

 

_nah its all good fam just cramps and that_

_i mean its not fun but i can deal_

 

She flicked off her phone and tried to concentrate on Gordon Ramsey for a while. And Goddamn, he took her mind off things. Gordon Ramsey was sex on legs, she could spend the rest of the night just listening to his voice. He got her through the ‘fuck me’ part of her period so that she didn’t stray into dangerous thoughts of a certain lark. 

About forty minutes into the first episode, a strangely rhythmic knock sounded at the door.

“If it’s a murderer, I don’t know why you’d knock, but please go away. If it’s anyone else, it’s open,” she called from the sofa, way too lazy and in too much pain to move.

The door opens and shuts with a soft click, and there’s a waft of lavender and suddenly Cosette is perched on the coffee table in front of her.

“Okay, so I didn’t know if you were a tampons or pads kinda person, or like, what kind you wanted, like are you a wings or a no-wings girl or heavy flow and all that? So I pretty much bought out the feminine hygiene section of the store-- which is such a fucked up name, I’m not even going to start-- but anyway, I figured we could give the ones you don’t want to homeless people, or shelters, because God only knows they need it, and, okay, I know I was already super cliche in coming here in the first place but like, I didn’t want to be _that cliche_ as to bring you chocolate and ice cream, so instead I got spring rolls and green tea -- honey and lemon too, because that’s only way to drink green tea -- and uh, chow mein, I think? I don’t know, the packaging looked good. I mean, there’s a bunch of shit in here that I just sort of grabbed on the basis of it being like, really nice packaging, so most of it’s just the Extra Special store brand, but hey, the colour scheme was nice, so I went with it, anyway, you’re going to lie down and get bundled up, I’m going to make you up a hot water bottle and some tea, and you’re going to pick what food you want, okay?”

  
“Um,” Eponine says, because. Wow.

"Go on," Cosette calls from where her face is buried in the bag. "Go on! I'll be through in just a second."

Eponine does, too stunned not to at this point. If she knew what to say to that, she'd have vocalised it. But it was kinda cold, and she was feeling weak and ready to turn to a sad pile of blood and mush. 

As she passes the kitchen, she hears Cosette fumbling with the kettle, and has enough presence of mind to call out a bleary, "You flick it down, not up," before disappearing into the dark warmth of her bedroom.

The second she slips into bed, she's drifting back and forth between a hazy not-quite-sleep and oh-fuck-I'm-still-alive. She's barely conscious of how much time passes, but it feels like a while. Her clock is behind her, and she has no desire at all to shift even an inch. She is swaddled in warmth, comforted by the soft, faraway noises of a sweet lark pottering about just a wall away. She hums contentedly to herself, and drifts into a lucid sleep.

She's vaguely aware of the soft noise of her door opening and clicking shut, of the shift in her duvet, of a soft and pudgey arm curling over her waist to press a hot water bottle in _just the right spot_ , and something soft nuzzling into the back of her neck.

She sighs, and leans into it.

She wakes up curled into the crook of Cosette's neck, vaguely aware of a drying trail of drool crusting along her cheek. 

"Ah, fuck," she groans and jerks back, scrubbing at her face.

The sudden change in position very kindly reminds Eponine that, oh yes, death comes for all of us. 

Cosette stirs, a hand reaching up to sift through Eponine's thick curls. Ohhh holy Mary mother of fuck.

"Hey, you feeling okay? Hold on, I have tea," she's saying and Eponine's poor tiny brain is still trying compute what terrible crimes she has committed to get to this point in her life.

Cosette's pressing warm ceramic into her palms and squeezing her knee. "You feeling okay? I have ibuprofen if you're in pain, and uh, mini rolls, because you deserve it."

Dazed, Eponine accepts a mini roll and a sweet kiss to the forehead, and decides to figure it out later. 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> original titles for this piece of shit:
> 
> 'everything is better with lesbians also this is what'
> 
> 'why are we still being punished for eve's transgressions'
> 
> 'i dont give a shit if this grosses ppl out its relatable and periods rlly shouldnt be fckn taboo anymore'
> 
> 'why dont more people love eposette'
> 
> 'its three am who am i'


End file.
